BERRYBELLE. THE WORD made little tingles race over her skin, just like it had a decade ago. Just for you, Berrybelle, he used to whisper in her ear as he passed by the counter, and she’d go searching for that one pink rose. It was the name she’d heard in her dreams for years after, even when she was so hurt by his sudden disappearance that she would cry herself to sleep.
But how could Eric be both angry and supportive? That didn’t make sense. He could probably smell her confusion as the woman on the phone continued to talk.
“—a lot of work to do here. I’ll copy all of the files onto a flash drive and bring them down with me. If you’re confident she’s not a flight risk, that is.”
“No,” Lucas said. “I don’t want you leaving Quebec. Those people might still need protection. Just go to the train station or airport and rent a locker. Make sure you’re not followed, of course. In fact, why don’t you make two flash drives and mail one to Antoine’s estate in France. Amber will keep it safe.”
“Will do. Anything else?”
“Yes,” Lucas replied with a grim tone. “Be careful. I don’t think this is over—not by a long shot.”
A series of heavy footfalls came from the next room and the door opened suddenly. Raphael, Bobby Mbutu, and Ahmad filed in. They all looked exhausted, like they’d been awake for a week.
Raphael opened his mouth, but Lucas held up a hand. “That’s all for now, Raina. Keep a phone handy and we’ll get back to you with more instructions.” He ended the call and then looked at the men. “That was quick. I thought you said fifteen minutes.”
Raphael shrugged. “That was based on obeying the speed limit. I decided to use my discretion about traffic laws on back roads. The suspension on that sedan holds up surprisingly well on gravel.” Holly watched as he turned to her. He winked. “So, I guess it’s just the two of us, huh? You up for waking a bear from hibernation, Healer Sanchez?”
She let out a slow breath and nodded.
Lucas furrowed his brow. “It might be a little early to ask that, Raphael. We haven’t precisely told her what Amber said yet.”
Eric raised a hand. “I did, just a few minutes ago. I didn’t think you wanted to interrupt the phone call, so I said it through private channels.”
Lucas nodded, as Raphael frowned in confusion. “You’ve got a pack link with her already, Thompson? I didn’t think you’d been formally assigned as pack leader.”
Holly cleared her throat, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. “It’s not a pack link, Uncle Raphael. It’s more of a . . . mating one.” She smiled and tried to make a joke of it. “Guess who’ll be coming to Christmas dinner this year? If he’s still speaking to me, that is.” She didn’t look into Eric’s eyes when she said that.
Her uncle looked from one to the other, then shook his head and sighed. “Should have seen this coming, I guess. It took a death threat to get him away from you the first time.”
Eric hadn’t lied when he told her about Dad, but to hear Raphael say it so casually . . . “You know, you could have at least told me he didn’t run off with Vicki. That was just cruel.”
Raphael held up his hands. “That was not my idea. It was your father’s. And it was better than the truth. At least you didn’t go chasing after him. Not every solution is perfect, Holly. You needed a few more years under your belt before your judgment could be trusted. By the time you turned eighteen, I’d frankly forgotten.”
Lucas slapped his hands down on the table, stopping any reply she might have made. “Daylight’s burning, people. Let’s get moving. We have a Chief Justice to wake and a Goddess to send back to hell.”
ERIC WATCHED HOLLY and Ramirez walk into the next room with anxiety. He didn’t like how Amber had said it could be dangerous. It reminded him of when the pack would go hunting and Holly would be at the restaurant all alone, closing up. Someone could have kicked in the door and robbed her, shot her . . . or worse. That was part of the reason why he’d left. He cared too much what happened to her. It was a daily struggle not to protect her from anyone who threatened her. He hadn’t won any friends when he’d told Corrine to back off and leave her alone. He’d backed up the demand by gripping that pretty chin and threatening to pull it off her face. It had worked . . . at least while he was there.
Lucas stood, pulling his attention back to the present. “When Charles wakes up, he’ll want to go on the offensive. I’m pretty sure he’ll forbid me to go, even though I can still handle a sword pretty well. But there need to be at least three people. Ivan, you know swords, don’t you?”
Ivan shook his bald head. “I haven’t practiced in years. I’d be more liability than asset.”
“Same with me,” Bobby said. “I’ve practiced more with guns lately. I’m pretty good with a bow, if we have one of those.”
“Then I suppose it is you and I again, Antoine,” Ahmad said dryly. “Do try to keep up with me this time.”
Antoine raised the sling. “I’m afraid this is my sword arm. It was broken in eight places. I’ll need at least another day of healing to have enough strength for thrusting through those metal feathers.”
“I’m pretty good with a sword,” Eric said. “I competed in college.”
Ahmad’s brows rose. “I’ll be the judge of that.” The slender, olive-skinned man walked past him, leaking enough power to make Eric’s skin sting. He followed Ahmad to the armory, where a variety of blades had been laid out. There were no cutlasses. These were mostly broadswords and were far longer than anything he’d worked with before. But then Eric saw a wooden handle peeking out from the corner. He reached down and pulled out a flat paddle of a weapon with glass embedded in the edge. Jack’s war club. He recognized it from the hindsight. He flicked a finger across one of the obsidian flakes, then swung it lightly. It was perfectly balanced and the stone was easily as hard as metal. But could the wood hold up against a sword cut?
“I’ll take this one.”
Ahmad looked at him curiously. “I don’t believe that will last long in battle, but you’re welcome to try.”
As they stepped out of the room, Lucas gave him an odd look. “Where did you get that?”
Eric shrugged. “It was hidden in the corner. Will it stand up against a metal blade?”
Lucas looked at Ahmad and then back to him. “I think you’ll be surprised. Have you ever seen one used?”
He shrugged. “Only in Charles’s memories.”
Lucas smiled broadly and nudged Antoine. “You’ll enjoy this. But sit well out of reach.”
The main room was empty of everything except the tables.
“En garde,” Ahmad said, and immediately swung the sword as though it were made of paper. Eric sidestepped and held the club like a sword to block the blow. But he quickly realized that position wasn’t to the weapon’s best advantage. The sword had him on reach, so he needed to make the distance a disadvantage. And the goal wasn’t to injure each other. There were plenty of enemies who would do that for them.
When Ahmad lunged again, Eric ducked and stepped inside his reach to deliver a powerful blow to the councilman’s chest with the front of the weapon. The thick flat area that he’d seen Jack use as a club. It had broken the jaw of many a snake in the hindsight. Ahmad let out a harsh breath and stumbled back, but recovered quickly and landed a slapping blow against Eric’s knee. It could have crippled him with the blade turned to cut—reinforcing that this was practice only.
“Thanks,” he said with a dip of his chin. “I like that leg.”
“Then you should protect it better,” came the cold reply, before Ahmad turned and swung, intending to slice the tip of the sword across his chest. It wouldn’t kill him, but the cut would sting for some time. Eric had no choice but to block the blow with the club and hope for the best.
Then something interesting happened. The blade stuck fast in the wood, locked between two of the obsidian flakes. Eric gripped the hilt with both hands and pulled down sharply. The blade bowed and the hilt was pulled from Ahmad’s hand. Eric flipped the club over and lunged before Ahmad could react to the loss of the sword. With the extra weight of the attached steel, it took every ounce of Eric’s strength to stop the blade before it sliced through Ahmad’s bicep. As it was, it opened a small gash in the red silk shirt and Ahmad hissed in pain before leaping back.
“Sorry about that,” Eric said with a wince as blood began to flow down the arm. “I tried to stop it in time, but the weight threw me.”
“Yesss,” Ahmad replied with enough power bleeding from him that the wound healed before Eric could even get the sword unstuck from the club. “I’m sssure you are.”
Eric heard slow claps and turned his head. “You were right, Lucas,” Antoine said, his eyes shining in amusement. “I always enjoy watching my esteemed council brother lose a sword battle. Disarmed and cut. Tsk, tsk, Ahmad.”
Ahmad simply glared at Antoine and held out his hand for the sword. As Eric made to hand it to him he started to feel . . . odd. A familiar tickling sensation passed over his body. He had a brief moment of panic before he dropped to his knees as he was swept into a dark place.
“Just seal that breach!” He heard a woman’s voice and could finally make out a vision in the golden light, as a compact spotted bobcat snarled at the two wolves beside her. He recognized Raphael as the black wolf with a single white paw, mostly because of the blue-white glow that surrounded him. The other wolf was Holly, and she was standing high on her back legs, as though she were straining to reach something. There was a sliver of darkness above her, as though something were trying to break through. Eric threw himself forward, came up under Holly, and raised her until she was standing on his shoulders. He felt his magic pour into her and then into the wall of darkness she was holding up. He didn’t even know if she realized he was bracing her, and that was okay.
An image of Charles lying on a bed appeared and the bobcat let out a harsh breath. “I was planning for this to be a little more relaxed awakening, but we just don’t have time for that. He can put up his own shields to hold her out, but he needs to wake up, uh, mad.” Amber stalked toward Charles, ears flat. “I’ve done this before, but it won’t be pretty, people. Be prepared to take cover.”
Amber regarded the man on the bed for a moment before nuzzling his nose. She sighed and shook her tawny, furred head. “Next time, teddy bear, sign up for lesson two.” She unsheathed her claws as Eric watched, and proceeded to dig them into the big man’s thigh. She pulled down sharply, released, and then did it again, almost too fast for his eyes to follow. Holy crap, she was making his leg into a scratching post!
A howl of rage filled the darkness and Eric was abruptly thrown backward. He came to in a flash of pain, in the room where he’d started, now empty. He could still hear a growling bear. Then he realized it was because there was a bear growling in the next room.
Eric winced as he stood and realized he must have fallen right onto the war club. Fortunately, it was flat under him, so the only cuts he’d gotten were from the sudden movement he’d made when he woke. Those obsidian flakes were like razor blades. His shirt was covered with tiny cuts that seeped blood when he walked. In a panic, he tucked his fingers into his pants pocket. The vial was safe, unharmed. His heart began to slow down, but then he heard an angry yell.
“I’ll kill that woman! I swear I’ll kill her.”
Eric stumbled to the doorway. Lucas moved to one side so he could see. Charles Wingate was hopping around the room in a terribly undignified way, rubbing a leg that looked perfectly healthy. But Eric knew what Amber had done, and guessed there was some phantom pain involved in the process.
“Shields up, Charles,” Eric said as a reminder, and the big man turned and blinked.
“What? Oh! Quite right, m’boy!” The power that was flooding the room was suddenly dampened. Charles growled again and tried to put some weight on his leg. He managed it with only a few small stumbles. “Amber did that once before when I was unconscious. Swore she’d never do it again. Damnable cat!”
Holly was on her knees, still looking a little dazed. “She said you had to wake up mad to get your shields up strong enough.”
“Then she did an admirable job.” Charles was calming down and squinting at the bright lights in the room. “Feel like I’ve been hibernating, and I suppose I have been.” He looked around the room slowly, sniffing the air with his large nose. His eyes fell on Lucas and he seemed suddenly older, tired. “I’m sorry, old friend. I’d hoped . . . But you understand why I couldn’t tell you.”
Lucas nodded, and smelled of both sorrow and resolve. “You didn’t lie. I’ll live to see old age with my family.”
Charles turned to Ahmad. “I presume you’ve selected your sword? You, Antoine, and I must go on the offensive at once. Now that she’s been removed from my mind, she’ll panic. We need to take full advantage of her confusion.”
Ahmad gave a short nod. “Eric Thompson will accompany us instead of Antoine. I’m . . . satisfied with his skill.”
Charles smiled. “I wasn’t aware Eric was a swordsman, but I’m not surprised. Josette told me there was no reason to save any of you. And yet, it’s you, those who might not have existed, who are here now and willing to fight. Each seer crafts the future as we see it. But my dear sister-in-law works on the premise that all chaos should be avoided, while I work on the premise that hope can turn chaos to our benefit if properly embraced.”
Ahmad raised an eyebrow and smelled of mild annoyance. “Do you plan to wax philosophical for the entire trip?”
The big bear let out a rolling laugh. “I probably will, old friend. I probably will.”